Everlong: Epiphany Series, #2

By Ember Dante

Reed Richmond was successful, adored, and lived the perfect life. Or so he thought, until one brutal betrayal shattered his world. Drowning in self destruction, he settled for fleeting pleasures, in stark contrast to the man he once was.

Madison Reilly had sworn off happily-ever-afters. Years of bad choices and broken promises left her jaded, convinced Prince Charming was a myth. She was tired of kissing frogs and closed herself off, vowing never to fall again.

Reeling from their pasts, Reed and Madison find solace in their unexpected friendship. Laughter replaces despair and a spark ignites, rekindling a flicker of hope within them.

As their bond deepens, buried secrets rise, testing the fragile trust they've built. Can they overcome their fears and redefine happily ever after, or will loyalty to family become the ultimate test of their newfound love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ember Dante
• Release date: Oct 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781733977364

Book preview

1

Reed

Heat.

That was the first thing I noticed as I woke, followed soon after by the acrid taste in my mouth. My tongue was thick and heavy and in desperate need of water. The pounding in my head was a jarring reminder of the previous night’s vodka. Memories came rushing back, and I slowly opened my eyes to confirm what I already suspected. I wasn’t at home. Fuck.

Sunlight spilled through the blinds, casting black lines across the room to land on my face and torso. I was too damn hot, so I pushed the sheet down to my lower abs and threw an arm across my face to block the insane brightness. Random sounds began to filter into my consciousness: the flush of the toilet, running water, the slight squeak of a door. The bed dipped to my left, and I peeked under my arm to see the blonde I chatted up at Sambuca. I groaned to myself and closed my eyes again, wishing I could get a Mulligan.

Morning, she purred.

I mumbled something that passed for ‘good morning’ and hoped she didn’t expect me to call her by name. I wasn’t sure I could remember it—if I even knew it in the first place. About the only thing I did remember was the tight purple dress she’d been wearing that barely covered her ass or her amazing tits.

She walked two fingers from my hip to my navel before slipping a finger just beneath the sheet to caress my stomach. I was hoping you’d still be asleep so I could wake you.

Her hand moved lower and brushed against the head of my dick, sending a shudder through me. The bed dipped again as she scooted closer and lowered the sheet to my thighs. I tried to tell myself to brush her off and get the hell out of there, but my dick had other plans, the traitorous bastard. The moment her fingers closed around my shaft, all thoughts of leaving evaporated, and once her lips slid over me, rational thought was out the door as well.

She fell into a consistent rhythm and the sensation washed over me, reminding me exactly why I was there, why I left the club with her. Random images played through my mind in no discernible order, a mish-mosh of erotica that was either real or just a figment of my alcohol-infused imagination. I also couldn’t rule out remnants of the last soft-core porno I saw on Cinemax. She drew me into the back of her throat, making all my muscles tense and my hips buck into the motion of her tongue gliding across my skin. An image surfaced, one in which she followed me to the men’s room. My ex was never brazen enough to try that, but this chick—damn. The memory was murky at first but became clearer with each pump of her fist on my cock.

The club was packed, and I didn’t realize she was behind me until we were inside the bathroom. Luck must have been on our side because it was the only time all evening that it was completely empty. I was close to wasted, and all I wanted was a few moments to clear my head. Turned out she had other plans. She pushed me into a stall and before I knew it, my dick was in her mouth and she was sucking me to the point of oblivion. About the time I was ready to blow she pulled back, rolled a condom over my dick, and begged me to fuck her. Who was I to say no? Fueled by drunken lust, I spun her around, pressed her face against the cold metal wall, and plunged inside her. Her dress was so short I didn’t have to bother lifting it out of the way. It’s really a wonder I was capable at the time, given how inebriated I was. All told, it only took a few minutes, then it was time to go, and we took an Uber to what I assumed was her place.

My cock stiffened, and my balls tightened as the familiar tingling began at the base of my spine and radiated outward. I lowered my hands to her head, fisting her hair, tangling my fingers in strands still sticky from last night’s hair spray. My hips caught her rhythm, and I tightened my grip as she increased her tempo, bringing me closer to the point of no return. Just when I thought I was about to come, she backed off, edging me out and then starting again. She did that twice more, then gently bit down, just enough for the unexpected contrast in sensation. That did it. I released a shout and held her head in place as I came, until I gradually loosened my hold and she backed away, continuing to apply light suction until she reached the tip, then released me with an almost silent pop. I scrubbed my hands over my face while my lungs drew in air filled with the scent of her hair products, and my heart rate returned to normal. As soon as the immediate need was sated, my thoughts returned to getting the hell out of there. I rolled to my right and slid from under the sheet. My balance wavered, and I had to steady myself before leaning over to grab my clothes.

You’re not leaving, are you? she asked, sounding somewhat disappointed.

Uh, I groaned. Yeah, sorry. I’ve got some shit to do. It was lame, but the best I could come up with due to my scrambled thoughts. I pulled on my boxers and pants before I stood, then slid them into place at the same time. What’s your address? I need to order an Uber.

I can drive you, she offered, sounding a bit too eager for my taste. I wasn’t going there. The last thing I needed was some random chick knowing where I lived.

Oh, it’s cool. Thanks, though, I muttered, dragging my shirt over my head.

I jammed my shoes on my feet and turned to face her. She was quite pretty, with a heart-shaped face and round doe eyes, but there was something cheap and a little desperate about her at the same time. I almost felt bad about the whole situation, but then I reminded myself that she had been a willing participant.

Hey, listen... I struggled to remember her name.

Sara.

Right. I kind of remembered that. Sara. I, uh, had fun last night, but it’s probably best we not do this again. It was fucking awkward, and I should have had my man card revoked for handling it like a pussy. I chalked it up to the monster hangover and primo blow job. So, your address?

Nodding, she released an odd sound resembling a cross between a snort and a chuckle. 7001 Parkwood.

Thanks.

I gave her a weak wave and fumbled with my phone as I walked through her apartment and let myself out. I didn’t truly relax until the first rays of unfiltered sun hit my face while I waited for my ride. It had been a little over a month since my world fell apart and I fell along with it, going completely off the rails. Pathetic. Maybe I should have had my man card revoked for that instead.

Hot water beat down upon me, rinsing the soap from my body and remaining fuzziness from my head, leaving behind a dull ache that was annoying but tolerable. I leaned against the cool tile and rested my forehead on my folded arm, watching the water swirl down the drain, wishing it would take my questionable decisions with it. My breath left in a heavy sigh, sending a mist of water toward the wall.

How the hell did I get here?

I jumped at the sound of my voice, surprised that I actually said it aloud. Maybe my head wasn’t as clear as I thought. Nevertheless, that was the one question that kept repeating, the one I couldn’t seem to answer. It was a puzzle I couldn’t solve, no matter how many memories I sifted through looking for signs that should have warned me of trouble. Some clue as to what was to come.

Betrayal was a funny thing. Those of us who would never consider being disloyal had difficulty comprehending that someone else could. Until the moment I caught my girlfriend in bed—my bed—with my best friend, I never would have expected it of either of them. The fact that their loyalty didn’t at least match my own felt like a fresh punch in the gut every time I thought about it. Tori’s actions hurt, but that was more an injury to my pride than anything else. I guess I always knew Tori wasn’t the one for me, so maybe that’s why. The real hurt came from Dylan, someone who’d been like a brother to me. With all the ups and downs we’d had in the past, and while he consistently had issues with substance abuse, never once did he ever make me think he would—or could—do that to me. Our bond always felt deeper than friendship, maybe even deeper than family if that were possible. That bond was the reason I didn’t beat the shit out of him at the time. Well, that and the fact I was in shock.

The water ran cold, and I heaved one last sigh before flipping the lever to the off position. I squeezed the excess water from my hair and grabbed a towel, feeling more human than I had before my shower. As soon as I was dressed, I grabbed my phone and went in search of my next distraction. A little ‘hair of the dog’ wouldn’t hurt, either.

It was almost two by the time I parked in front of the bright yellow and blue building that housed the Yellow Parrot. A few small clusters of people were scattered around the patio area, enjoying the mild day from beneath cheery yellow umbrellas. I felt a stab of jealousy at how utterly normal their lives appeared while mine was so monumentally fucked.

A blast of cold air hit me as I stepped through the doors and immediately headed to the deserted bar. I grabbed a stool at the far end, so I’d have a good view of the ball games on each of the televisions mounted in the area. As I slid onto the black vinyl seat, I flipped my sunglasses on top of my head and rested my cell phone face down on the bar’s dull surface. The bartender, a cute brunette named Brittini with tattoos and a nice rack, was busying herself stashing glasses and beer mugs in the cooler. She looked over and flashed a brilliant smile with lots of teeth, her bottom lip almost forming a rectangle with the gesture.

Hey, Reed. She grinned, wiping her hands on a towel as she walked toward me. What’s kickin’ chicken?

I couldn’t help but laugh. I also couldn’t stop the X-rated thoughts filling my head as I remembered how her lips looked wrapped around my cock. You’re goofy, you know that, right? I chuckled.

Aw, she whined, drawing her luscious lips into a pout. You’re supposed to say, ‘socks on a rooster, Buckwheat.’

And just how would I know that? I laughed.

Shrugging her shoulders, she giggled and placed a cocktail napkin in front of me, immediately sprinkling salt over it. You mean you can’t read my mind?

Sorry, no. Women remain one of the great mysteries in my life.

Tall or short today? she asked, turning to reach for a chilled glass.

Better make it a tall.

She nodded, then stepped to the tap. You know—she glanced at me briefly before returning her attention to my beer—women really aren’t that difficult to understand.

No?

Nope. She smiled, setting the glass on the salted napkin. A small glob of the foamy head spilled over the rim and slid down the frosted glass. Want me to tell you the secret?

I had a feeling I was walking into a trap, but she was too damn cute to brush off. Tell me.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar and her chin on her folded hands. Listen when we talk, tell us we’re beautiful, and if all else fails, chocolate.

I knew it. I grabbed a few napkins from a nearby stack, wadded them into a ball, and tossed them at her face. Laughing, she batted them away, pleased with herself. I take it back. You’re not goofy—you’re a smart ass.

You haven’t just figured that out, have you?

No. I gave her a smirk and lifted the glass for that first sip. The bitter liquid rolled over my tongue and washed away the last vestiges of my hangover. It may have been strictly psychological, but I did feel better.

Brittini leaned against the bar and rested her palms on the painted surface, arms extended about a foot on either side of her body. Her stance created a forward tilt in her shoulders, giving me a great shot of her ample cleavage.

Have you heard from Tori?

My brows knit at her innocent question. No. Should I have?

She shook her head. I don’t know. I guess I thought she’d get her shit together and realize she fucked-up.

Maybe she has, but it won’t matter.

Her face crumpled. Are you sure?

Yes.

Look. She leaned forward. "I’m cool with what we’re doing, but I don’t want to be that woman, you know? I don’t care if you’re seeing other chicks, too, but I don’t want to be the reason you and Tori stay apart. All I ask is that you’re honest with me and tell me if you two decide to patch things up."

I reached forward and placed a hand on top of hers. I promise. But it ain’t gonna happen.

2

Madison

Saturday nights in the greater Dallas area were always hopping with life. If I had my way, I’d stay home and avoid the whole scene with a bottle of wine and Netflix, but my best friend, Peyton, changed my mind by tempting me with dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant. I was powerless to resist.

I stepped from my Honda CR-V and the fresh April breeze ruffled my hair as I crossed the busy parking lot. I checked the time, knowing she was bound to give me shit about being late.

It was easy to spot Peyton’s platinum pixie amid the gathering crowd, highlighted by the reds and oranges of sunset that painted the restaurant’s white facade. My feet faltered as I mentally compared her chic attire—a sleek, cold shoulder top, painted-on jeans, and her trademark stilettos—with my casual, tomboyish ensemble of T-shirt, jeans, and Chuck Taylors. What could I say? That’s what happened with three older brothers.

Took you long enough, she scolded when I reached her.

I’m ten minutes late.

Well, I’m hungry. She smirked, then pulled open the door and led me inside.

Sounds more like ‘angry’ to me, I grumbled.

She gave me another smirk before turning toward the hostess and flashing a dazzling smile. Two, please.

The hostess smiled in return and pulled menus from the stack beside her. This way.

We could’ve sat at the bar, I whispered.

Nah. She waved me off. I need to spread out a bit.

Once we were seated, I perused the menu even though I knew I would order the shrimp tacos like I always did. The waiter arrived, and Peyton ordered drinks for both of us before I had the chance to open my mouth, requesting two frozen margaritas and a shot of Grand Marnier—or Grand Ma as she called it.

Is it that kind of night?

I don’t know. You tell me. You seemed stressed when I called. I figured you could stand to loosen up a bit.

I opened my mouth then snapped it closed, hesitant to talk about the newest drama in my life. I broke up with Chris, I blurted.

She looked up, hand poised over the bowl of chips, her blue eyes wide and mouth gaping. What?

I sighed and sank into my chair. He called the other night, wanting me to bail him out for another DWI.

Stupid fucker, she mumbled, dipping a chip into the salsa. How many is that now?

Three. I reached into the bowl and flipped a few chips aside, looking for the perfect one. I told him the last time that I was done if it happened again.

Three? Daaaamn, she said, drawing out the word to three syllables. What did he say?

Nothing good.

The waiter returned with our drinks, and Peyton didn’t waste any time pouring part of the shot over each of our margaritas while he took our food order. She waited until he was out of earshot before launching her inquisition.

So—she sipped her drink—how are you holding up? I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.

No, it wasn’t easy, but I’m not going to put up with that shit. Just look at how jacked up life has been with Dylan.

Yeah, I guess you can’t break up with your brother, she snickered.

Hardly. I smirked. It’s just that I’ve watched Dylan’s struggle with addiction, and I can’t go down that road with someone else. I won’t.

Don’t blame you, hon. She took another sip. What else is wrong?

I don’t know, I groaned. I guess I feel like I’m stuck in a rut. I can’t sleep. I can’t concentrate at work. I feel like I’m going crazy.

Know what you need? At my blank stare, she continued. Dick. You need dick.

Really? That’s your answer?

It always fixes me right up.

The waiter arrived with our food, sparing me from further comment. Peyton ordered two more drinks and then gave me an expectant stare that remained well after the waiter left.

I just broke up with my boyfriend, remember?

And? There’s plenty more dick in the sea, ya know, she mumbled, stuffing a forkful of rice and beans in her mouth.

Well, it’s not like I have a lot of options in that area. What would you suggest?

She leaned forward. You know they have apps for that, right?

Online dating? I scoffed. Are you serious?

Why not? Most of those dudes are just looking to get laid. Shouldn’t be too difficult to set something up.

I lifted my glass for another swallow—or two—of the frozen concoction, stopping just before brain freeze could set in. I don’t know. There are too many variables. I bet most of those dudes are sickos and losers.

Yes, Peyton sighed. I’m sure some of them are. But I’d also be willing to bet most of them are just looking for an easy hook up with no strings.

I shook my head. Yeah, no. I just don’t feel right about it.

You know you can actually have sex with someone without being in love, right?

Duh. I rolled my eyes. I’m not that naïve.

Well, however you want to do it, just get back out there and have some fun. She reached for her glass and took a healthy swig, effectively closing the subject and leaving me to stew in my own indecision. 

I knew she was right about the need to move on but was I ready? Then again, what did I have to lose?

I woke feeling more rested than I had in days. I wanted to attribute it to the girl time with Peyton, but that wasn’t the whole story. The main reason for